


The bat and the thief

by Fostofina



Category: Pride and Prejudice (1995), Pride and Prejudice (2005), Pride and Prejudice - All Media Types, Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: But still cool, F/M, Mary gets to be a rebel, Mary-Centrick, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, crackfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 04:15:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3194960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fostofina/pseuds/Fostofina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary saves the life of a stranger from a bunch of thieves. No one could have foreseen what followed. Marked M for language and some later depictions of violence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The bat and the thief

**Author's Note:**

> So this is kinds cracky but I still hope that you can enjoy it and have fun =D

_If anyone asked me five minutes ago about how I would die… I would have most probably told them ‘content, warm and surrounded by what I love the most’ even if I knew in my heart that I could never really predict my own death. I certainly never thought that I would die like this: On the cold ground, with nothing but the heavens above me._

_But alas, I suppose that I should have seen this coming. Nothing was the same anymore anyway._

_Everything changed the moment that we met…_

* * *

 Underneath the English sky, a waifish young woman of nineteen years strode onto the green plains of Hertfordshire. In her hand she held a large tome citing the flora in the area. The petite woman had straight mid-length dark hair. _Not too short or too long._

 And while her sister was famous for having lively, gorgeous dark eyes in a way that reminded her of wild horses. The girl’s vey own eyes were quite dull and mud-like. _This way they will reflect modesty even better._

 The plain young woman known as Mary Bennet clutched her tome tight. Afraid that she might drop it and get it dirty. She thought to look for any of the flowers described in the book, particularly Daisies. _The flower of purity and innocence._ Yes, surely her father would like that. He’d recognize the cleverness and maturity behind her choice of flowers.

 Usually she liked to stay inside but upon her mother’s insistence that everyone should leave her _poor nerves_ undisturbed and with her father occupying the library. She decided that perhaps reading outside might benefit her after all. However, she grabbed the wrong book by mistake and was now stuck with it. _There’s absolutely no chance that I’ll go back in there for a while when mother's nerves are troubling her._

 But to tell the truth Mary never minded where she was as long as she had a book, especially the useful type. _They are true companions. Books don’t care if you’re ugly. They don’t need you to speak well either._

 And so Ms. Bennet spent all day collecting Daisies and admiring the nature around her. What are men to rocks and mountains? _And what are they to_

 _flowers too._ She added wistfully, how silly would her father think her to be if he had heard that specific thought! She sighed contently, seeing how she gathered an adequate amount of flowers and how the sun was almost down. _I better get home before they start to worry!_

Holding her freshly plucked daisies in her hand, the young woman made her way home quietly, taking a shortcut away from the main road when a noise suddenly stopped her in her movement.

 Not more than 10 meters away from her, partially disguised by bushes and rocks. Mary found what she concluded was, a band of questionable men.

Everything slowed down around her as she took in the sight: They were drunk for the most part, their faces looked scarred and dirty. She found that they all had weapons in their possessions. However, it was neither their dirty clothes nor their dangerous appearance that truly alarmed her. But rather it was the sight of two men. Both poor sods were gagged and tied and thrown on the ground, stripped to their undergarments. They appeared to have been soundly beaten, both sporting the nastiest bruises that she could ever imagine.

Of course there was only one SANE thing to do. _OhGodOhGodOhGod!_ And so the small woman let the book slide from her hand as she ran as far away as possible before anyone took notice.

 Mary assumed that she looked ungodly as she ran as fast as she possibly could. However the sheer panic for her life had surpassed any sense of property. And in her small frenzy she rammed into something warm and solid and fell straight on her rears.

 ‘Are you alright?’ a charming voice asked in concern ‘you look like you’ve seen a murder’

 The source of the voice was a young man, there wasn’t much that she could make out in the poor lighting but he certainly seemed quite handsome. Mary could make out wisps of blonde hair and eyes that were as green as emeralds. However, another pressing matter was happening and there was no time for proper introductions.

 Realizing that she hasn’t made it that much further away. The brunette gripped the mysterious man’s hand and started to drag him away from the scene ‘We have to go! there isn’t much time before they notice.’

The man seemed to get her meaning and he went with her compliantly enough. They ran until the Bennet girl’s could no longer carry her, she felt her companion’s hands on her arms ‘Please stop running, you need to rest.’ He led her to a small rock and allowed her to sit on it and catch her breath before he questioned her on what happened. And so she proceeded to tell him about the men. 

‘Really now?’ he asked pointedly ‘That sounds…interesting’

 _The impudence of this man!_ Mary had just saved his life and he had the nerve to treat her as if she was a babbling fool!

The infuriating man gave her a boyish smile and stretched out his hand ‘Edward… Edward Bronte at your service’ 

Deciding on not being rude to the man she’s currently stranded with in the middle of god-knows-where. She took his hand and allowed him to dramatically plant a kiss on it as she answered dryly ‘Ms. Mary Bennet’

‘Well, Ms. Mary Bennet’ he spoke with a voice full of mirth, completely ignoring any formality she had enforced between them ‘let me take you back home. After all, it is quite dangerous here’ the words rolled of his tongue almost in a purr.

  _What does that boy take me for?!_ Although he was quite right about one thing: it was quite dangerous. And so she finally made a decision and informed him –in her iciest tone- that he may only escort her back to the main road. She could find her way home from there. _I’m never using a shortcut again._

 And so they started to make their way back to the road in what she hoped would be a comfortable silence. But alas, her hopes were dashed.

 ‘So what were you doing all by yourself anyway?’ Mr. Bronte asked casually.

‘I don’t see how that’s any of your interest sir’ she replied as curtly as possible.

‘Well it just seems a bit odd is all, a young woman, wandering by herself at such an hour’ He answered with half a smile forming on his lips.

 _Does he mean to imply that I’m a questionable woman?_ Blood boiled up to Mary's ears but she kept her face still as she always had ‘I’ll have you know sir that if it wasn’t for this interruption. I would have been home for hours now’ She defended.

‘What were you doing?’ He asked

‘I was reading a book.’ 

‘ All day?’

‘I was also collecting daisies.’

‘Why?’

‘The book was about flowers.’

‘ But why…’ he tried to ask.

‘Do you ever stop asking questions?’ She parried. 

‘ Why would I ever do such a horrid thing?’ He countered in his carefree manner.

Mary sighed.

By the time they reached the main road. Mary had been exasperated…

 

The next day she decided to stay indoors and practice her pianoforte. She remembered how her parents embraced her and listened to her story, worry etched into their faces and she felt warmth seep into her heart. _It doesn’t make me a bad person._ She knew it was a selfish thing, but the thought of both her parents listening to what she said filled her with too much ecstasy to regret any of the vanity in her enjoyment. 

She made her way to her room that night-which was all hers now that her sisters left- to find a very strange thing waiting for her on her bed. 

It was the book she dropped yesterday; from it a Hawthorn flower peeked marking its corresponding page. Mary picked it up and a note fell from it. _This flower suits you better_. And words that were underlined in the book. _The hawthorn flower represents insight, passion, restraint and listening_.

Fiercely, Marry closed the book and threw the flower out the window.

* * *

 

 Jack sat on the ground and looked ahead as his mates around him were getting as drunk as a lord. He held the bottle in his hand and stared at the two idiots before him. _Who the fuck travels off the main road at this hour?_ They knew that the area was usually unoccupied with people who… practiced their profession but they should’ve been careful still. _They brought this on themselves_.

 _What is taking him so long?_ He wanted his friend to be back already so they could all decide what to do with this lot and get it over with.

Suddenly, he felt a grip on his shoulder and he smiled as his friend’s infectious glee filled the air. ‘What the bloody hell took you so long?’

‘Nothing at all’ Edward replied, sitting down and putting a large tome in his lap ‘Just looking for a book’


End file.
